


Search for the Detective

by doctorcaslock



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Time Travel, WIP, Weeping Angels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorcaslock/pseuds/doctorcaslock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The appearance of stone angels and the disappearance of people bring Sherlock and John to the countryside. John isn't surprised to find himself separated from the Consulting Detective, but he is surprised to find himself being chased by these statues and stumbling into a Police Box that is bigger on the inside. Now John and the Doctor must jump from time period to time period to find Sherlock before he changes history for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This Work in Progress is going to be a messy heap that will probably make no sense until I finish it. I honestly have no idea where it is going. Then when I do finish it I will probably go back and straighten some plot holes up or something.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Sherlock?”

John turned, raising his torch to light up the path behind him. The forest was scary at night, John wouldn’t hesitate to admit. The fact that there was a new moon out tonight made nothing better. There was a crisp wind in the air that made John zip his jacket all the way up and wish that he brought gloves and earmuffs. The trees in the light of his torch looked back innocently. There was no noise; all the singing insects buried deep in the ground for the winter. John strained to hear anything that might be Sherlock. Nothing.

They were here for a case. Obviously. People were disappearing. That was it. One moment they woud be having a conversation with the bartender, but then the next morning it was as if they never existed. There were no bodies, no struggles, no fights. People were vanishing into thin air. This perked up Sherlock’s ears, and the two of them took the two hour trip outside of London to investigate. Sherlock thought he found a lead, hence why they were in the forest now.

John knew it was a bad idea to separate.

“Sherlock!” he tried again, and again, there was no response. He turned back to walk forward again. He waved his torch again, eyes opened wide so he could look through the darkness for any clues. There were moments where his light beam lit up an area and there were angel statues. He thought nothing of them; this forest was old. Very old. It had ruins of old towns all over the place. He only paused when he first saw them. The ruins around here were old huts that were randomly planted on the landscape. Crying angel statues seemed a bit too advanced for anyone who used to live here.

He started to worry, and then started to run. They couldn’t have been separated for longer than 15 minutes right? “God Dammit, Sherlock,” John looked around him in the dark forest while he fished out his phone. When he called Sherlock’s mobile, it went straight to voicemail. John sighed and stood still. Without Sherlock, John didn’t know how to get back to the small town. He was shit with directions. He looked around again and noticed that the angel statues were becoming more abundant. before he only counted one or two every couple of meters, but now, standing here, he counted about 20. 

That’s impossible, though. Statues can’t move. John stared at one of the statues. It was facing to the side, so John only saw it’s profile. It’s wings were folded in a neutral position on its back and it looked like it was crying into its hands. John’s eyes bagan to feel dry, so without thinking he blinked.

This time the statue was staring right at him.

“Holy, f-” John backed up away from the statues. He backed into something hard behind him, and when he turned he shown his torch on another angel statue behind him. This one was peering at him through its fingers.

John’s heart started to beat hard against his ribcage, trying to get out and get away. Everywhere he turned were more angels, and they were getting closer and closer. Confused and running out of options, John sprinted through a small gap in the group and bolted down the path. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew that he needed to get out. The cold air was stinging his lungs and his eyes were tearing up. He wouldn’t dare look behind him, fearing of what was after him. He didn’t know how long we was running, but in the distance he saw a light. A new burst of engery pushed him toward the light.

It was slowly meeting him as he rant toward it, and he realized that the single lightbulb was connected to a box. John was too scared and desperate to make sense of the fact of this Police Box being in the middle of a forest.

Finally he reached the box. He didn’t slow down and crashed into the door. It held his weight but of course the door was locked. John looked behind him and saw the herd of 20 Angels only meters behind them. Instead of crying into their hands, they were showing off their sharp teeth, and their hands were reaching for John, claws exposed.

“Oh God, oh God help me! HELP ME!” John banged on the doors, hoping that the doors would give in and he can hide in there until dawn. He slid out his gun fron his waist band and blindly shot at the angels. He can hear the cracks of metal against stone, but there was no visual difference of the angels, except the closing distance with each blink.

John wasn’t expecting the door to push open behind him, forcing him forward. He also wasn’t expecting someone to take hold of his shoulders and pull him backward into the box, so it took a couple of seconds for his brain to tell him that he was starting not at stone angels who were going to kill him, but at the back of the doors of the police box.

“What..?” He finally said.The doors were lighted up from a light source behind him, causing the silhouette of John’s shadow to stare back at him.

“Well I certainly wasn’t expecting company so soon, but feel free to make yourself at home!” A voice said behind John, but the voice wasn’t in his ear like it should be. How big was this box? The voice echoed through the air around him, and when he turned around his jaws felt like lead in his mouth and his brain decided to not even try.

Simply put, it was bigger on the inside. Much bigger. The large computerlike controls stood up on a platform, large column of glass rising from the center. Lights blinked and shimmered and overall there was the calm hum of the machine. Running around the circle controls was a young man. He was wearing industrial goggles and a bow tie. It looked like he was searching for something amongst the controls, and once he found it he walked down the small flight of stairs towards John.

“Weeping Angels again, boy do they never give up.” He continued to go underneath the platform and started to play with the numerous wires. “Don’t worry old girl, we’ll fix you!”

“Wh..” John attempted to talk, but his brain refused to do anything. Moving angel statues out to kill, and now a whole control room of a ship that is located in a small old Police Box. Not to mention this man and his bow tie.

The man reappeared fromt he jungle of wires and took off the goggles to take a good look at John. He set them aside and with only 3 strides of his long legs he reached the Army Doctor. His eyes watched John, taking in his reaction and what he is going to do next. The silence stretched, but soon John seemed to snap out of his shock, blinked his eyes a couple of times, and shook his head.

“Wh-where am I? Who are you?”

The man smiled. “You’re in the TARDIS. And I’m the Doctor.”

“TARDIS?”

“Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, yes,” The man’s smile grew, and he rubbed his hands together in excitement. “You must be John, yes?”

John’s eyebrows were brought together, “Excues me?”

“John Watson. Doctor John Watson.”

“…Yes,” John is waiting to wake up, becasue this has to be a dream, “How do you know my name?” John raised his arm to scratch the back of his neck, and while doing so he snuck in a pinch. The pain radiated from the point, but he was still here.

So no dream.

“John Watson.” the man repeated. “What a name, the name of a solider. Yes I know who you are. I’m here to help you find Sherlock.”

“Sherlock?” At the mention of his name his entire body came at attention. His brain turned back on and his eyes focused on the man that seems a bit too happy in front of him. “What about Sherlock? What happened? What do you go by? Doctor? Doctor Who?”

The man laughed, “It never gets old does it? Just the Doctor, that’s all you need to know John,” He turned and ran back up the stairs and played with the controls. “Those Angels out there are an ancient alien race who, with just a touch, send their victim back in time and live off the life’s energy that they stole. Sherlock,” The Doctor paused as he pulled a lever and flicked a couple of switches. John started to walk away from the door but stopped at the foot of the stairs, “was thrown back in time. Somewhere. Anywhere really, I have no idea. But his brother came to me,” at this John snorted. Of course Mycroft was involved somehow,”with an envelope that said ‘Do Not Open Until November 24, 2012, at 1:23. It said that he woke up in a strange time and place and he needed my help. Our help.”

At this The Doctor stopped what he was doing and jumped down the stairs and stood in front of John, “We are going to go through time to find him, John. Are you with me?”

John gave another look around the ship. Then back at the man in front of him. He turned his head back towards the doors that lead to the danger waiting for him outside. He let out a chuckle before turning back to hte Doctor and nodded. “Oh God yes.”

John never was the one to deny an adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

_Interesting..._

Sherlock opens his eyes and he finds himself not looking at a forest in the middle of the night, but overlooking a small town at the bottom of a large hill in the middle of the day. In the distance, water ( _An ocean, or large lake at least; the shore on the opposite side annot be seen_ ) sparkles with the sun's reflection. Sherlock quickly becomes hot underneath his think coat and gloves. He shields his eyes from the bright sun. He can barely make out movement in the town as people walk from building to building. He inhales the air. The thick odor of flowers and spices fill his lungs.

"I'm in Italy.." he says outloud. He looks around him. On the hillside, with the local flora and fauna the only company, Sherlock thinks back. He remembers running through the forest outside of London. They were brought there by the movements they observevd in the trees. People were disappearing. The Angel Statues. He didn't know how, but he knew thet they played a part in the case. People have been known to wander into the forest, whether for camping trips or for exploring, but never come back out. Sherlock and John went in as well. Now they will be added to this list. Then he remembers that the last thing he saw was one of the Angels. He has seen others, but this one was different: one of its wings were broken off.

Sherlock continues to organize his thoughts when he hears movement in one of the bushes behind him. Sherlock is brought back to the present (past?) and turns around.

" _Chi è?_ " he asks in Italian. He curses to himself that he doesn't have a weapon on him.

"What? What was that? - _Ow-_ I don't speak Italian! Uhm, I mean...  _Non... io speak,_ no,  _parlo? Italiano- OW!"_

Sherlock stands in a defensive pose, and he backs away a bit when someone falls out of the bushes.

"Ugh, I can't believe I ended up here..." she crawls forward into the clearing before jumping to her feet. She shakes the dirt and leaves of of her simple sundress and knees before looking around. She also shields her eyes as she looks over the small town. "Wow. That really is beautiful..." she begins. She turns her head slightly to Sherlock and smirks, "Don't you think so Sherlock?"

Sherlock narrows his eyes at her. She obviously doesn't belong here either. Perfect English. Looking at the construction style of the town below, and it's size, he estimates that they are in a southern Italian town, but he does not know the time. It is in the far past though; there seems to be no machinery of any kind. Her clothing tells him she is from the same time as he is, if not a year or two from his future, but she knows his name. How would she know his name? Immediately one name pops into his mind.

"Mycroft sent you, didn't he?"

She looks back at him and laughs. "In a way. I am here, though, just as randomly as you are. Angel with a broken wing?" Sherlock nods. "I was with a friend who is searching for you as well.  _He_ was sent by your brother, I just tagged along for the ride but-"

"Went on a rather different ride. What is your name?"

"Clara. Clara Oswin."

"Hmm. And who is this friend of yours?"

"The Doctor." she replied.

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Of course." Sherlock has heard of him before. He has researched him before. The man who appears throughout time. Different faces, but the same man, and the same box. "He will find us promptly then correct?"

At this Clara rolls her eyes, "Find us? Yes, but promptly? probably not. That old Snog Box of his is not the most reliable. We might be here for a while." She looks once more at the small town. "Do you know Italian?"

"A bit, yes." Sherlock takes off his coat and gloves. The sun beaming down on them both was becoming unbearable to him. Then he realizes something. "Where's John?"

"John? Oh! John Watson? I bet he is still in that forest." Shepauses and turns towards the ield behind them, "I saw a road a bit that way, maybe it leads back down towards the town." The two of them make their way into the overgrown shrubs and small trees, and soon they find a small dirt road. Clara continues. "We were given the location of your disappearance in a letter you wrote-"

"I wrote? Do you have it with you?"

"Hmm, I do not," Clara looks at the ground ahead of her, "I bet the Doctor does. I did read it though, but there was something that didn't make sense." She pauses, trying to remember what the letter said, "I don't remember what it said word for word, but it definitely said that you weren't in Italy. It said you were somewhere in London."

Sherlock looks around them. The trees above them gives the area a green light, and the birds fly above them singing their ancient songs. "That means I don't stay here. Or at least I eventually leave."

Clara looks at him before looking around them too. "Are you going to leave right away?"

Sherlock looks to their left and stops walking. Peering around one of the thin trees is an Angel Statue. Sherlock smirks at its one wing. "It appears so. Care to join me?" Without taking his eyes off of the statue, he holds out his hand in Clara's direction. He feels her take his hand. "On the count of three, one-"

"Two-"

"Three."

They blink.

-x-

"Doctor," John asked. The Doctor went back to running around the room, sliding to a stop here to bush a botton, only to take off again to make it to this computer screen, but not before twirling in a circle. John was worried for his sanity, both his own and this man who called himself just 'The Doctor,' "You said something about a letter Sherlock wrote. Can I see it?"

The Doctor was concentrating on what was on the computer screen. John cautiously walked to where the he was and looked at the screen. It contained a bunch of circles that made absolutley no sense to John, but he was sure that the Doctor knew what he was doing. He hoped. After a couple of seconds, John realized that the doctor didn't hear him, so he said again: "Doctor? Sherlock's letter. Do you have it?"

"What? Yes- I mean no. No I don't have it." The Dotor turned around and looked at John, or more so observed. He brought his face only centimeters away from John's  and darted his eyes, as if looking for something. John looked anywhere other than straight ahead, getting more uncomfortable as each second passes. "Clara must have it then. John, you have seen death. No no, don't say anything, I know I'm right. This TARDIS, my TARDIS, may not get to the correct time and location relative to the Sherlock you were with only an hour ago. We might arrive minutes after he disappeared, or years. He can be in any moment in history. Billions of years. Are you able to handle what is on the other side of that door?"

They both look towards the doors of the TARDIS that opened up to the outside. John never realized that what the Doctor would be possible; he assumed that this would only take a minute, but now he is not so sure. He takes a deep breath and nods. At this the Doctor smiles.

"Don't worry we will find him, but again we do not know where he is, or when. We might though," at this point, the Doctor becomes animated once more, "Run into people who might have bumped into him at one point. We can gather clues and close in on his location."

"Brilliant..." John says to himself. Then he remembers something the Doctor said. "Wait, who's Clara?"

"Clara! Brilliant girl! Bossy, and a bit too short, but clever! Unortunately she disappeared as well, I am assuming the angels got to her as well. I'm not too worried about her though, I have bumped into her in less ideal situations. Now hold on!"

Before he finished his last sentence the TARDIS began to violently shake. John was able to grab hold of the banister before falling off of the elevated platform. This continued for only a moment before becoming still.

The Doctor jumped down the stairs and ran to the door. "Well come on Doctor! If I knew Sherlock, I would guess that he is causing some sort of trouble."

John smiled to himself, thinking of Sherlock trying to break into an Egyptian tomb, and joined the Doctor at the front doors.

"Ready?" The Doctor asked.

Johntakes a deep breath, and grabs the door handle and pulls it opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really really sorry the chapters are so short. I guess that's my writing style. Stay tuned for chapter three!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I edited Chapter Two- I added a section with John and the Doctor, so if you didn't read that go do so...  
> ...  
> ...  
> ...  
> Now

Sherlock opens his eyes, and then immediately sighs. "Another forest?"

These trees look very much different than the Italian trees and bushes. They are taller and thicker, and the atmopshere is crisp with autumn air. Sherlock is thankful that it's cool enough to wear his coat; he didn't want to continue to hold it. He also notices the wildlife. Squirrel here, chipmunk there. He looks up and sees a falcon flying above them.

"We are in America." Sherlock states. Still holding his hand, Clara looks around as well. Feet still planted on the ground, she twists her torso to look behind them.

"Oh hey look, a village!" Sherlock turns and sees a pillar of smoke rising from the treetops. The cloud was thick and black.

"But that's just not from a chimney, there is too much of it, and there's only one. In a village there would be thinner pillars of light grey, whereas this is deep grey, almost black."

"So, the towns having a barbeque?"

Once she stopped talking, they listen. In the distance they can hear yelling, and among that laughter and screaming. Dreadful screaming. Sherlock's jaw drops when he realizes, "They are, but a pig is not on the menu- Clara wait!"

Clara dropped his hand and bolted forward. Sherlock ran after her. He was suprised about the distance he had to cover to catch up to her, and by the time he got a hold of her and covered her mouth to prevent her from doing anything stupid, they were just on the outskirts of the small village. "Clara are you crazy?!" He whispers. He can see tears falling from her eyes as she looks ahead. Sherlock lets go of her and holds her by the shoulders. "We cannot do anything drastic. This is history, we can't mess anything up-"

"Hello? Who's there?" 

Sherlock grabs Clara's arm and runs to hide behind the corner of the nearest wodden building. A young boy came to a spot in the area where they were just standing. He looked around him, and Sherlock pulled Clara back as they huddled against the building. 

"I know I heard you, you can't hide from me," he ends his sentence with a giggle. Behind the corner, Sherlock and Clara are both still and silent. Clara's breath is fast and heavy, they can still hear screaming from the center of town. "Mary, stop hiding, you are going to miss the witch's burning!"

Sherlock is still peaking around the corner, keeping an eye on the little boy, but next to him, he heard the quiet gasp and the slap if her hand as Clara covered her mouth. Soon, though, the boy gives up and runs back towards the center of town. Waiting another moment, Sherlock lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He turns to look at Clara, who was still holding her hand to her mouth. She was staring at the ground in front of her, eyes still wet with tears.

 _We need to get out of here,_ Sherlock thought, and for the first time, he was hoping to find that angel with one wing. He was about to take off again but-

"BOO! Hey, you're not Mary..." The two realized that the boy ran not back to the center of the village, but simply around the building, which they realized was much smaller than they first thought. They froze, staring at the little boy looking back at them. He was wearing a white shirt with ruffles at the collar and sleeves under a black coat, as well as dark breeches and black leather shoes, an outfit Clara has only seen in textbooks and documentaries. He cocked his head to the side. "You dress funny. Especially you," he points at Clara, "I can see your legs."

Clara and Sherlock look at eachother, and then at Clara's dress, which went only down to her knees. She thought to herself how thankful she was that she decided to wear a sweater as well.

"Yes, well... Uhm..."

"Where are your parents?" Sherlock quickly cut in. Without taking his eyes off of the child, he took off his coat and gave it to Clara to cover herself up. He mentally sighed when, after putting it on, Clara made the ends of the coat drag in the dirt.

"They're at the burning of the witch, I was looking for my sister Mary."

"Well Mary is not here, now run along-"

"Where are you two from? I haven't seen you around here before. Are you from the other side of the ocean?"

Clara walked forward and knelt in front of the child. "Yes we are. Just popped off the ship in the Harbor. The thing is though, we don't have a place to stay, can you suggest somewhere?"

"Well, I could ask my parents," Clara was about to argue, the child already ran back towards the center of the village.

"Well done, now they will think us of witches ourselves and we will end up like the person who was just burnt." Sherlock grabs Clara's arm and drags her off of the floor. He begins to head back into the forest when Clara pulls out of his grip.

"And where do you think we will go? The forest? We were lucky in Italy, that angel was there only minutes after we arrived. How long do you think until it will show up here, if at all? You do what you want, but I'm staying here, where there is at least shelter." She hugs the coat close to her body. They both stare at eachother. "I would just think that you, of all people, would believe that in a situation like this, we should stay together."

"Father, over this way!"

"Who... Who the hell are you?" the boy returned, but this time, he brought with him an older man, around the same age as Sherlock.

"They just came off of the boat Father," The child was smiling, proud of who he found. The Father, however, was not as impressed as the two of them hoped. He was suspicious. "What clothing do you wear? I have never seen such odd garments." Then his eyes were opened wide. "You're not from here are you?"

"No Father, I just said they're from acro-"

"Quiet Peter, go back to your mother, and don't say anything of these two. Tell her I will be home for supper."

"But what about Mary?"

"There's nothing we can do about Mary, I told you-"

"But I haven't found her yet!"

"Peter! Do as you are told!"

Peter closes his mouth and looks at Clara and Sherlock before walking back towards the center of the village. The man watches him leave before turning back to Sherlock. "I apologize for my son."

"He wasn't playing with his sister just now," Sherlock said, narrowing his eyes. "He just thinks so. She's lost isn't she? She disappeared. Quite suddenly."

The man opened his eyes wide. "Yes. We beleive it was witchcraft. She was last seen with her friend Francis. Turns out Francis is a witch. It was her burning at the stake today. How did you know that?"

"We," Clara says, stepping forward next to Sherlock, "Are sort of lost too, similar to your daughter, but different-"

"Clara," Sherlock warns her.

"You mean you are witches?"

"No! No," Clara said quickly, "We are victims."

The man looks between them for a moment. "Victims?"

"Yes, we were taken from our homes and were brought here. We just need shelter for a few days, and then we will go on our way."

Next to her, Sherlock is fuming, but doesn't say anything. The man is still quiet, but soon he sighs. "Very well, you may stay with my family for the time being," he holds out his hand. "I am Thomas." Sherlock and Clara both shake his hand. "Follow me."

Thomas leaves, but before Clara gets a chance to follow, Sherlock grabs her again, "You are lucky. VERY lucky. For now on keep your mouth shut, before we are killed. You don't know the customs here." He lets go, but he makes her walk in front of him. Clara stays silent, and walks onto the main street into the village.

 

-x-

"Yes Thomas what is it?"

"I found more sir."

"Found what Thomas, after this burning I am exshausted."

"Witches sir. They appeared out of no where. The girl is definitely one, but the sir she was with looked just as powerful."

"And why do you believe they are withces?"

"They practcally confessed to using witchcraft. They knew what happened to Mary, and they claim that they were victims, that they just appeared here."

"Thomas I cannot do anything now, but keep an eye on both of them, especially the girl. Come back when you have evidence."

"Yes sir."

 -x-

It has only been two days, but the tension between Sherlock and Clara is at its limits. Forced to do hardwork, Sherlock is a walking grudge, whereas Clara is having a bit more fun at playing Pilgrim.

"They are not pilgrims."

"Colonials, I apologizes," she mocks, "But at least I make best with what we have."

Clara stays at Thomas' home with his wife, Emily, while Sherlock is out gathering wood for the winter. The work ends after dinner, and the two of them usually stay outside until they go to sleep. They have obtained their own outfits, and Clara shuffles her long skirt back and forth while Sherlock stands still beside her, staring up at the stars.

"Looking for him?"

"Who? The Doctor?"

"Mhmm," Clara stops and looks up as well. "He'll find us." She loops her arm throguh Sherlock's and leans on him. She looks at him before saying, "But it's not the Doctor you're worried about. Well, Doctor yes, but not THE Doctor-"

"I just want to know that John is not in the same situation we are. He doesn't-" he pauses and looks at the ground, "He wouldn't have anyone with him like I do."

They are both silent.

"Hey! I got an idea," Clara frees her arm and digs into her apron pocket. She takes out her cell phone. "Lucky me, I had this in my sweater. The Doctor soniced or zapped it, or whatever, and supposedly," She looks around them, making sure they are alone, before turning the phone on. She covers the phones screen, preventing any light to shine and to give themselves away, and she squeaks with excitement to see the full bars. Sherlock keeps watch as well as she quickly dials the number the Doctor gave her.

-x-

John steps out of the TARDIS.

"Holy..."

Around them, infinite cherry blosom leaves fall. John smiles as he looks up at the sky. People walk past giving him stares, but soon shrug him off and continue on their way.

"Oh," The Doctor appears next to him holding a small box with lights and an unecessary large dish satellite on top. "Not here," he says.

"What?"

"This is my Looking-For-Thing. It has a small compartment on the side. If i want to look for someone in time I put a piece of their DNA, in this case a hair of Sherlock's I found on our coat- don't worry not judging, I'm sure you keep your coats on top of eachother eh?" He nudges John with his shoulder, only to stop whe he sees John's icy glare, "eh, well anyway, this red light shows that he is still alive, relative to the time from when he disappeared, or your time. This Yellow light means that we are close in time, and this orange light means we are close in location. Neither of them are on, so we are a ways off. The Green light, which is also off, means we are at his time and location. In order to find Sherlock we need all lights on. As you can see only the red light is one, so he's not here."

"And where is here?"

"Japan. Not too far in the past, maybe 1900?" The Doctor pauses and swings his body around to obvserve the area. "They have more to worry about than a blue box, so we are safe. Not that it matters, we have to leave anyway." The Dctor ducks back into the TARDIS, leaving John alone. 

John stands there for an extra moment in awe. He has traveled through time, and halfway around the word. In seconds. "Unbelieveable," he says. Behind him he hears the Doctor fumble around.

"What? Yes, hello?" John reluctantly retreats into the TARDIS and closes the door, almost disappointed he couldn't explore some more.

"You found him? Brilliant!.... What?.... Salem?.... Okay. I will be there as soon as I can, in two seconds my time. Hang in there and stay low."

"What was that?"

"Clara! She's with Sherlock! They are both okay," he says, spinning a wheel. "Bad news though is that they are smack dab in the middle of the Salem witch trials, so we need to move quick." The Doctor pushes more buttons and the TARDIS begins to shake once more.

This time John is the first to the door. He opens it slowly and peaks outside. They are just outside a village, and the Doctor holds John back.

"1963. Salem Massachusetts . They are not here."

John turns and looks at the Doctor's Looking-For-Thing. Only the red light is shining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> legit word vomit, this chapter was, so apologize for the sloppiness. Also I hope I am getting the characterization correct.


End file.
